


There's Gonna Be a Party When the Wolf Comes Home

by kuklash



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Bellamy as a villain, Blood, Deception and Betrayal, Mount Weather Bellamy Blake, Some violence but nothing huge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-15
Updated: 2020-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:26:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23159260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kuklash/pseuds/kuklash
Summary: “Dante?” she asks, her voice a mixture of confusion and surprise.Bellamy straightens the nameplate on his desk, and the gold plaque reflects the dim fluorescent lights above him. He taps it twice, drawing her attention to the words “Dante Wallace” written in a fancy script.“That’s what they call me.”A Canon Divergent Fairy Tale AU staring Bellamy Blake
Comments: 6
Kudos: 7
Collections: Chopped Madness





	There's Gonna Be a Party When the Wolf Comes Home

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Chopped Madness event hosted by the Chopped 100 Challenge on Tumblr.  
> This was written for the Preliminary Round, and the tropes are as follows:  
> Character: Bellamy Blake  
> Theme: Canonverse (Used Canon Divergent)  
> Trope 1: Fairy Tale AU (Used Little Red Riding Hood)  
> Trope 2: A Good Guy as a Bad Guy (Used Bellamy)

Bellamy stands in the office, staring at the row of screens to the right of the desk. He watches as the blonde girl walks from one screen to another, passing from hallway to hallway in Mount Weather. He thinks about how _ he  _ still gets lost in the labyrinth, and this is the only place he’s ever known.

Bellamy keeps watching as she gets closer and closer to the office, only taking his eyes off the screen when she knocks on the door.

“Dante?” she asks, her voice a mixture of confusion and surprise.

Bellamy straightens the nameplate on his desk, and the gold plaque reflects the dim fluorescent lights above him. He taps it twice, drawing her attention to the words “Dante Wallace” written in a fancy script.

“That’s what they call me,” he responds, flashing her an assuring smile as he takes a seat as his desk.

She looks exactly like Lovejoy and Emerson described; blonde, short, and most importantly, unmutated. 

“Come in and have a seat." Bellamy waves his hand at where he had assumed a chair would be. But there was no chair there. The girl looked at him, confusion in her eyes briefly, before looking around for another chair.

“It’s Clarke, right? Of the Sky People?”

She takes a nervous breath, but responds without a quake in her voice.

“Yes sir, Clarke Griffin.”

“Wonderful,” he says, softly.

“I heard you were an artist,” she begins as she walks over to the chair nearby. “I’m something of an artist myself.”

“Yes, I quite enjoy putting the pen to the paper and creating something,” he says dismissively, trying not to drag the conversation on longer than he needs to.

“Oh, you do drawings too?I thought those were your paintings on the wall behind you."

His breath catches in his throat as he stares past her, lost in his own thoughts.

_ This is no place for mistakes,  _ he chastises himself mentally.  _ If she knows, then the plan is ruined. _

He can feel her eyes staring at him, and Bellamy is suddenly aware that he has been silent far too long.

“Please, sit down.”

He watches as the blonde girl grabs the chair and sits across the table from him, her eyes watching him carefully.

_ She knows nothing,  _ he thinks to reassure himself.

_ She suspects nothing. _

There is a brief moment of uncomfortable silence as the two simply observe each other, before Bellamy breaks the tension.

“And I’ve been told you’ve come to see me about a trade agreement. Is that correct?”

“That’s right,” she answers, visibly relaxing. “My people are looking for a safe haven from the Grounders. They’ve been attacking more often since we fried them with the Dropship.”

“It’s still amazing to think that a group of teenagers managed to not only hold their own against such a massive army, but actually kill 300 of their warriors in one fell swoop.” he said, with a mixture of enthusiasm and wonder.

“I mean, you’re not much older than us. And certainly not as old as I was expecting for someone running such a huge operation.”

“Expectations are dangerous,” his voice short and filled with venom.

He watched Clarke’s smile drop quickly.

_ I have to be careful. _

“I digress,” he sighs, hoping to diffuse the tension. ”What can your people offer in exchange, Clarke?”

Her eyes meet his again, clearly glad to be continuing the negotiations.

“Like I said, we need a safe place to live, and we would be willing to offer up all of our weapons at the door.”

Bellamy’s eyes gleamed with intent, like a snake looking at a mouse, but he didn’t say a word.

Clarke shifted in her seat, but continued with her offer.

“We were also willing to do whatever jobs you asked of us, Dante. Your messengers told us that you could use all the help you can get in the laundry room and kitchens.”

“I’m glad you don’t expect to live here rent free,” he says with a smile. “I think we can come to an agreement.”

Her eyes light up at the word.

_ I’m in. Maybe Dante’s kindness would actually save the mountain, but he won't be around to see it. _ He smiles even wider at the thought.

“Go ahead and radio your people. You can tell them to start heading over now.” he insists, handing her the radio.

She takes it, and Bellamy listens to her explain the situation to the remaining teenagers before taking it back and returning it to the desk.

“Come with me, Clarke. I’ll show you where your people can stay.”

“Your people will be treated well here, Clarke. I promise."

“Thank you Dante."

The two of them walked through the halls of Mount Weather, the cold, sterile white reflecting the lights.

“I’ll take you up to Level 5 and we can see how you’d like to set up camp," he explains as the two of them step into the elevator.

Bellamy glances at the buttons and presses “2” as the doors close.

He hears her breathing speed up as the elevator starts moving downward.

_ She knows. _

Bellamy wasn’t expecting Clarke to be able to kick with that much force, but he slams face first into the elevator doors. He quickly rolls along the wall to avoid her next attack, and responds with a jab of his own. His fist connects with her cheek as he winces from the previous kick. But adrenaline floods his brain and dulls the pain as he rushes her, his shoulder connecting with her stomach, and he slams her out onto the floor as the elevator doors open. He forces her over onto her stomach as he pins her arms behind her back.

A woman’s voice sounds from across the room, congratulating him.   
“Well done Bellamy.”

He watches the color drain from Clarke’s face when she realizes the deception.

“Thank you, Dr. Tsing,” he says, a huge smile breaking out across his face.

“Bring her here so we can sedate her and begin.”

Bellamy lifts up Clarke despite her struggles, and forces her onto the medical bed. Lovejoy and Emerson help him tie her to the frame as Tsing inserts the IV. Bellamy takes a step back as the girl, still struggling, swiftly drifts into unconsciousness.

“I can’t believe she fell for it,” Lovejoy admitted. “Who would believe that you were old man Dante?”

“And who would believe that a kid like you would be in charge?” Emerson added, curtly.

“Emerson, don’t forget your place here.” Bellamy said, abruptly turning to face the older man and stepped toward him with intent.

“Dante was too weak to see us return to the surface." Another step.

"Too weak to see us return  _ home _ ." Another step.

"I’m more than willing to make an example out of you.” Another step.

“I will not have weak men try to stand up to me, soldier." With another step, Bellamy was nose to nose with the glaring man, and he whispered his final thoughts.

"You are a pawn. Nothing more."

The medical room was deathly quiet, save the beeping of the heart rate monitor. Bellamy watched as Emerson held eye contact for several heartbeats, before lowering his gaze and stepping back.

“Yes sir.” Emerson muttered, his voice low and soft. Bellamy, satisfied with the embarrassment, turned to face the doctor.

Dr. Tsing inserted another IV into Clarke’s arm, and it began pumping her deep red blood into a nearby machine.

“Looks like our assumptions were correct,” Tsing mused, reading the various readouts from the machine. “They are just as immune to the radiation as the Savages.”

Bellamy rolled up his sleeve and offered his exposed flesh to the doctor as she hooks up another IV to the machine.

“Bellamy,” Tsing asks, unable to mask her eagerness. “Are you ready to see the outside?”

The anticipation fills his body with a tingle as the needle enters his vein.

“I’m more than ready, Doctor.”

**Author's Note:**

> I hope y'all like this! I had a ton of fun writing it and didn't wait til the last minute for once!
> 
> The title is taken from the song "Up The Wolves" by The Mountain Goats, and I highly encourage listening to it!
> 
> Voting runs from March 16th - March 17th, so please read all the others and vote!


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